


Camping Is In-Tents

by Elexandros



Category: Top Gear (UK)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-23
Updated: 2010-03-23
Packaged: 2017-10-08 06:23:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elexandros/pseuds/Elexandros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pretty much pwp jungle sexing in Bolivia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Camping Is In-Tents

**Author's Note:**

  * For [evilmaniclaugh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilmaniclaugh/gifts).



> Disclaimer: Not mine, sadly. Warnings for tossing off and inappropriate use of a felt-tip.

"Now, Hammond, this one you'll find really interesting. You know that noise we heard earlier? Well it's made by the Hamster-Eating Giant-"

"I don't care I'm not listening shut up." Richard cut him off, swaying a bit now as he pointed at Jeremy from across the fire. Much drink had been consumed, keeping everyone a bit more relaxed, and the night seemed promising. Save of course for the insect population.

"Plus, the names you're making up have turned shit." Richard added, sounding as though this was in his defense.

Jeremy looked highly affronted, gasping and scribbling in the book with the felt tip he had found. _Hamster-Eaterous_ written out in large, bold letters over the illustration now. James leaned over, squinting at the page.

"You're shit with latin as well." He declared.

"Am not."

"Are too. You're not even trying." James responded, looking up at him, blinking slowly. Jeremy snorted.

"I'm a Doctor twice. I'm far more adept at latin than you'll ever be, James. May…._Maius ig…nor…amus_."

This time James laughed, the echo of it eaten up by the hum of insects. The whole camp seemed to quiet, contemplating the night in the stupor of every great drunken philosopher. Heads tilted up as they listened until, somewhere in the distance, a much bigger animal let out a sharp, dangerous sounding screech and everyone shifted uncomfortably, remembering the dangers of where they were. Jeremy looked down and wrote _not for eating_ on his arm.

"Just so they know." He said, nodding seriously. He closed his book, a wide, childish smile appearing on his face and he scrawled _Property of J.C._ over the cover.

"Oh, God…" James muttered. "He's found a new toy."

"Right." Andy declared, standing, wobbling, and clapping his hands. "Time to turn in, then, lads. Remember the rules, shoes outside, and et cetera,"

"Means he doesn't remember the rules, either." Richard mumbled, standing and looking scanning the ground for crawlies as he walked. Andy continued, unheeding the fact that no one was really listening anymore.

"…We need to buddy up on the tents, sorry chaps, I know you're all terribly disappointed." He gave Jeremy and James a rather meaningful glare on this one, and then grabbed the nearest intern by the collar and heaved the poor lad in the direction of his tent.

After much fumbling, much cursing, and the ringing clink of wine bottles that no one could be fussed to clean up until morning, the men found their tents. James crawled inside, flopping immediately onto his back, one arm over his eyes.

"Crikey, that was a…what the hell are you doing?" He asked, seeing Jeremy's silhouette stomping around outside the tent. Jeremy shushed him, giggling to himself, and James watched in bemusement as the outline of a spider appeared on the fabric.

"….You're drawing on our tent." He observed.

"Does it look like a spider is trying to crawl in and eat your plums?"

"No."

"Excellent. One moment please."

James dropped his head into his hands, scratching at his hair for a moment. He was dirty and itchy and had a Clarkson who was intent on frightening Hammond with cartoons. Plus, flashlight on The Belt was digging into his spine whenever he sat down. Sighing, James fidgeted with the buckle, listening idly as Richard screamed out from the tent he was sharing with a cameraman.

Jeremy came flying inside a moment later, laughing so hard he was nearly crying.

"Did you hear him?" He asked, sitting up and wiping his eyes. He looked up at the tent, pulled the cap to the felt tip off and started writing on the tent. "Mine." He declared.

"You're such a pikey." James chuckled, taking the marker and drawing next to the _Prop. Of J.C_.

"It's a cock!"

"What else did you expect?" James asked, tongue poking out between his teeth.

Jeremy only laughed, snatching the marker back and adding to the design. James shook his head, fumbling for the buckle of his belt, which seemed to be lost in-between the boot polish and the hand sanitizer. He finally found it, undoing it when two larger hands descended over his own.

"Wait. I'll do that bit." Jeremy said, marker stuck between his teeth now. James smiled, lifting his hips so Jeremy could pull his jeans down, flinging them to the corner of the tent. The taller man smiled down, proud of himself, and James reached up, undoing Jeremy's flies for him.  
"Get rid of that stupid marker." James chided, still smirking as Jeremy unbuttoned his shirt.

"No. I like it. S'mine." He protested.

James rolled his eyes.

"Pity. I wanted some jungle sex."

He laughed out loud as Jeremy hastily tore his shirt off, taking the marker out of his mouth and leaning over, smashing his lips against James'. James shifted, accommodating Jeremy more fully between his legs, secretly loving the security he felt when the man was on top of him like this.

Jeremy ground down against him, still in his jeans as James thrust his tongue into his mouth.

"You had the good wine tonight." James mused as Jeremy's fingers carded in his hair. Jeremy grinned.

"Knew you'd find out." He murmured, triumph in his voice as one hand trailed down to James' straining boxers. James moaned loudly under him, and Jeremy hastily muffled him with lips and tongue again. He forgot how much noise James could make.

"And you're normally the quiet one…" Jeremy said, ducking his head down to nip at James' exposed throat, one of his favorite parts of the man. Especially knowing that sucking on that certain spot would make the other go rather breathless. An idea struck him, and he grinned, reaching to the side and finding his marker.

"Bite down." He instructed, placing it between James' lips.

James arched an eyebrow, but did so anyway. The next moment, he arched up, teeth clenching around it as Jeremy's hand found its way into his boxers, stroking him expertly.

Jeremy watched, eyes dark with lust as he took in the sight below him, very uncomfortable in his own denim now, but not wanting to stop, either. He dipped down again, biting at James' collar bone as he jerked him off, listening to the little gasping breaths, the wanton moans.

James was bucking up into his hand now, head thrown back and Jeremy knew it wouldn't be long. He licked a stripe up that beautifully bared throat, twisting his wrist and James came undone under him, tensing and crying out. Jeremy held him close, kissing just below his ear until the shudders died away and James lay boneless under him. He coaxed James into letting go of the marker, and Jeremy made a show of licking it before kissing James rather firmly.

"You look gorgeous like that, May." Jeremy growled against him. James smiled, fingers tracing Jeremy's back, finding the waistband of his jeans.

"OI!"

Both men jumped, eyes going wide, fingers stopping. Someone smacked their tent. Hammond.

"Keep it down in there! We're not that drunk! We want to sleep!"

Jeremy looked down at James, who had gone bright red, listening to Hammond mumble curses as he stumbled back to his own tent. Jeremy sighed, rolling off of James.

"We'll have to save it until we get a hotel." He grumbled, though he found James' hand and gave it a squeeze.

"Jez, you sure? If they already heard that much…"

"No, don't' worry about." He grinned dangerously at James as he worked his jeans off. "I'll get revenge anyway. On you and him."

"Me!?" James yelped, affronted. "What did I-"

"I said SHUT UP!" Richard's voice rang out, followed by several yells of agreement. James turned an even deeper shade of red.

"Goodnight, May." Jeremy chuckled, leaning over to kiss him once more, and then settling into a sleeping bag. James smiled.

"Night, Clarkson."

 

***

 

"Get your pants on, May, its time to get moving." Andy hollered across to him. James rolled his eyes, still feeling rather hungover, and inspected his jeans quickly for anything unwanted that may have found them in the night. Pulling them up he paused, thinking of last night, and snuck a peek down his boxers.

_Prop of J.C._

"…Yup."


End file.
